


high for this

by stage4sundays



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Addiction, Angst, Blow Jobs, Drug Use, Drunk Sex, Fluff and Angst, Love/Hate, M/M, Partying, Pre-Canon, kylo ren being a hot mess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-12
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-19 20:44:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5980491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stage4sundays/pseuds/stage4sundays
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Then prove it."</p><p>"What," Hux sputters. He had been meaning to finish with something about how he couldn't be paid enough to do anything but work with the insufferable maggots aboard this vessel, but the words seem to have left him. </p><p>"Yeah, prove it," Kylo repeats, liking this idea more and more. "We've got plenty of, uh" - he holds up a bottle and attempts to read the label, which is in a language he's never seen - "whatever this is. Since you scared everyone away. Prove that you can, I don't know, hold your liquor, or whatever." Not that that's something Kylo has ever been any good at. </p><p>Hux's mouth forms a thin line. "Fine."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> so this whole thing came to me in the car when i was listening to the weeknd sing abt doing many drugs and also doing many girls and i was like what if.....kylo ren......was a party girl......
> 
> and the rest just sort of happened
> 
> never mind that it's a total impossibility, it's fake and it's in space so none of that really applies 
> 
> (i don't know how long this is going to eventually get)  
> (title is the weeknd song u already knew that tho)

Part 1 - Kylo’s POV

There are colors everywhere. Colored lights, colored cups, colored pills, colored smoke. 

Kylo Ren is sitting on a couch, in the center of a dark room, in some far-off corner of the finalizer. He's not really sure when he got here, or at what point the room started spinning like this, but the girl to his left laughs musically every time he floats a bottle over to pour her another shot, and he thinks he'll keep doing it. The girl formerly to his right is now more on his lap than anything, attacking his neck clumsily, and he's not sure he has the heart or strength to do anything about it. 

It's not as easy as he'd hope to distinguish the beat from the pounding in his head, and God is the room spinning now. Why is Girl To The Left turning blue? Kylo closes his eyes and takes a steadying breath. 

Girl To The Right - a female storm trooper whose number he recognizes from a scouting mission on a no-name planet a while back (red hair, very pretty, terrible shot) - won't let up, and he's not long for this world, he can tell. He draws his fingers across her temple, flicks a vision into her head - nothing, really - and she falls back across the couch. Back arching, broken gasps punctuating the throbbing music. _Sounds like singing,_ he thinks, right before he blacks out. 

***

 _You're kidding,_ he thinks, right after he wakes up. 

It's morning, although it's easy to lose track when one is floating through the icy vacuum of space inside an expensive metal husk. His head pounds, but no worse than usual. It's a common occurrence that he wakes up far from where he began the evening, and this time is no exception. 

At present, he's in someone's quarters, slumped in a corner, mask on, one sleeve pushed halfway up, cowl missing. He's seen worse.

Slowly, he tries lifting his head from where it rests against his chest. There’s a thin girl with brown skin passed out on the bed, not really covered by the next-to-nothing regulation sheets. _Fantastic, I’ve done it again. Or maybe I haven’t._ Most of his clothes are on, after all. It begs the question of how he got to that particular corner, but he doesn’t press the matter. 

So far so good. Although usually at this point he would have - _oh, oh no._

Kylo scrambles to his feet and practically flies out of the room, hurting through the corridors bent double at the waist. On the way he passes a control room filled with storm troopers, one of whom fails to stifle her laughter in time - he tries to stop and glare, but another wave of nausea hits him and he takes off, setting for force pushing her into an expensive looking panel as he continues his pathetic sprint across the ship. 

How the _fuck_ did he get so far away from his quarters? After what feels like miles of corridors he careens through the entryway, pressing the release on his helmet while the door hisses shut, and collapses to his knees. His whole body convulses as he retches onto the floor. 

Thankfully, not much comes out: pills don't take up much space in the stomach. 

He looks up again, this time with some success, the swaying in his head having steadied slightly. With some difficulty, he carries himself over to the shower and climbs in. Kylo is displeased to find that his limbs don’t want to cooperate and he winces as he slides down the shower wall, resting his aching head against his knees. He takes a steadying breath, the left side of his mouth quirking up into something resembling a smirk - it’s lucky he made it to his quarters: cleaning vomit out of a helmet is not on his top 10 list of things to do ever again. 

Kylo had hoped to take as little time as possible to collect himself and get back to doing something, anything - but he's feeling particularly terrible this morning, so he opts for a few minutes alone in his quarters, trying to meditate. 

Soon after he sits down, trying to let the silence quell his headache, whispers start to permeate the room. Kylo winces and covers his ears, trying to block them out, but they're coming from inside. _Shut up,_ he whispers to the empty room. _You can't be here. Be quiet be quiet please._

Still, they get louder, and he claws at his temples, trying to find a source of the noise he knows isn't really there. Eyes squeezed shut, he hears items from every surface in the room start to fling themselves into the walls, some shattering on impact. The air crackles with energy.

As quickly as it started, everything stops. Kylo goes limp where he's curled up on the floor - he hadn't made it more than a few steps inside his doorway. Groaning, he rolls over so he's face down, forehead against the cool tile. This hangover is not playing fair.

***  
He makes it to the bridge perfectly on time - that is, just late enough that everyone begins to wonder if he’ll actually show up. 

By the time the actual meeting starts - whatever it was meant to be about, anyway, he doesn’t really keep track - Kylo has almost distracted himself from the pounding in his head and the fact that his stomach keeps trying to evacuate its contents by any means possible. The Finalizer is passing through a nebula, something even the dreadfully rigid first order rules have somehow bent to accommodate. Even the most fearsome ship in the galaxy stops for colored smoke in space, apparently. 

Hux is talking some nonsense about budgets and their subsequent draining due to certain control panel destruction - something Kylo steadfastly denies - overly loud and bright and sharp in the echo-filled chamber. Kylo reaches up and flicks the sun-shade down over the eye slot of his helmet. Much better. It's so early, after all. 

"Ren? Ren!" Hux's voice shocks Kylo out of his trance. If it's possible for a voice to be orange, it is. And angry. Much like the rest of him. "Care to grace us with any semblance of your attention today?"

"What," he says, a little dazed. Kylo is once again thankful for the mechanical filter of his helmet, in that moment he might have sounded bewildered. 

Hux regards him with possibly the most world-weary expression Kylo has ever seen. "The plans. For starkiller base."

Ah, yes, the general's little pet project. Kylo had always thought it ridiculous to build yet another Death Star, especially if the only kicker was that this one was to be...bigger. He'd even outfitted it with a fittingly overzealous name. Starkiller. Ridiculous. 

It was meant to blow up planets, after all. 

"What about it?" Kylo tries to add a nasty edge to his voice, and though he falls somewhat short, the helmet more than makes up for it. And they wonder why he wears this thing. 

"Christ you really haven't heard a thing I've said, have you?" It isn't a question. 

Kylo smirks as the tips of the general's ears begin to glow red. 

"It is time to present the plans to the supreme leader, and - and I regret this most deeply, believe me - I must bring you with me, Lord Ren." He stands, straightens the lapels on his coat. "I don't suppose you caught the timing, either?" Hux sounds tired, more than anything, now. 

"Can't say I did." The nebula really is something to look at, starlight glinting off the icy clouds, throwing color in every direction. 

"Tomorrow. 0600." 

***

If Hux thinks the early meeting time is going to stop Kylo from - well, anything, he's dead wrong. 

Although the usual gaggle of storm troopers are out on some sort of mission, Kylo still finds himself surrounded by people and four drinks in by 2200. 

The buzzing in his head has just reached a tolerable level, loud enough to drown out any possibility of coherent thought but not yet loud enough to let the voices in. It's the precarious balance between order and chaos that Kylo wishes he could hide in forever, the one that he unfortunately can't seem to reach without significant substance abuse. 

_The one Hux never seems to understand,_ Kylo thinks before he can consider how his thoughts wandered over to the good general once again. That man lives in a world of absolutes. Good and bad, dark and light. Kylo takes a sip of his drink and wishes it could be that simple. He knows better than to think one can get out of this life unscathed by the uncertain. 

As if on cue, a slim, pale figure appears in the doorway, casting an overly large shadow across the room. Fuck. 

" _What,_ " Hux roars, " _is going on here_?" 

The room freezes. Close to fifty storm troopers and more than half a dozen low-ranking officers scatter like bugs, knocking over glasses and overturning speakers as they escape through every possible exit. 

_Cowards._ Kylo adjusts his cloak and takes a calm sip of his drink, turning slowly to face the general. 

"I'll repeat myself," says Hux, quieter now. His voice is like ice and Kylo is suddenly very warm. "What, in the name of the first order, is going on here?"

"I don't believe you said that the first time," kylo mutters. He laughs under his breath. 

" _Excuse_ me, Ren-" Hux's face is turning red. 

Wonderful. 

"The part about the first order." Kylo, for lack of a better word, giggles. Christ, he's drunker than he thought. 

Belatedly, he realizes he isn't wearing his helmet which means Hux actually heard that dreadful sound. Oh well. 

"No matter. The fact that you think you have any authority to be running about encouraging conduct like this aboard my ship is, frankly, ridiculous. You do realize that you don't outrank me? I could have you thrown off this ship, and honestly, I don't even know why I haven't, you are _insufferable,_ you're a _child._ Have you got a single ounce of self control? You are-" 

"Shh," Kylo says. The general is talking so very quickly. 

"What did you just say to me?" 

Hux's face is growing redder by the minute - something that amuses Kylo to no end. 

"I didn't say anything, actually. I will, however, say this now: you're jealous. The crew hates you."

"I res-"

"Shh. They do. It’s impossible to get them to shut up about it, actually. But you already know that, don't you? You're jealous that some of us know how to have a good time, and the only thing you know about is paperwork." Kylo smiles to himself. He can be quite clever, when he wants to be. 

"That is ridiculous. I have no interest in that sort of thing, and besides, it's not like I'm incapable of doing anything other than work, I-"

"Then prove it."

"What," Hux sputters. He had been meaning to finish with something about how he couldn't be paid enough to do anything but work with the insufferable maggots aboard this vessel, but the words seem to have left him. 

"Yeah, prove it," Kylo repeats, liking this idea more and more. "We've got plenty of, uh" - he holds up a bottle and attempts to read the label, which is in a language he's never seen - "whatever this is. Since you scared everyone away. Prove that you can, I don't know, hold your liquor, or whatever." Not that that's something Kylo has ever been any good at. 

Hux's mouth forms a thin line. "Fine."

***

"Ok, wait, stop," Kylo slurs as Hux motions to pour him another shot. Just because he has absolutely no respect for his limits doesn't mean he doesn't know them well, and Kylo is 100% positive that he is going to black out. Soon. 

The two men started off exchanging snide remarks but had quickly fallen into silence, each grimly determined to out-drink the other. 

Hux is sitting back in his chair, coat removed, hair disheveled, top button undone. A faint blush colors his otherwise pale face, and there's some lack of focus about his eyes. Kylo suspects that Hux hasn't fared much better than he has. 

"Does this mean I win?" Hux doesn't break expression, except to reach up and run a hand through his hair. There's something about the habit that makes Kylo want to do the same. 

"I - I guess it does." Kylo thinks that he is somewhat awestruck by the look of triumph on the general's face. 

"Well," he says, tone an attempt at businesslike, "that's my cue to leave." 

They both rise, unsteadily. Hux takes a tentative step towards the door (and also, consequently, towards Kylo). Another. 

Kylo senses it before it happens, probably would have stopped it had he been in his right mind, but he lets it happen. Hux goes for the third step and miscalculates, the slight slope of the floor throwing him off balance. Kylo can see the dull panic in his eyes as he topples forward, and suddenly Kylo can feel himself falling as well. The force is for something, but this is not it. 

The wall catches kylo. Kylo catches Hux. 

The two simply stare at each other for a moment. Kylo has never really been one for self control, and, if he's being honest, he's something of a handsy drunk. 

"Hello, general," he whispers. He threads his arms around Hux's waist, pulling him closer as he takes a step back to lean properly against the wall. A voice in the back of his mind says are you insane or something to that effect, but he ignores it.

Much to Kylo's surprise (and his own,) Hux doesn't pull away. Instead, he leans in, closes the impossibly small distance, whispers: "Hello, _Lord Ren_." His breath is hot on Kylo's mouth. 

And suddenly Hux is kissing him, teeth and tongue, clumsy and needy and _thorough,_ and it's all Kylo can do to keep up. 

Kylo reaches up to tangle his hands in Hux's hair, pulling slightly. Hux moans into his mouth, hips stuttering forward as his hands struggle to find the catch on Ren's cloak. 

Kylo struggles out of about half of his clothes with some difficulty, suddenly regretting the many layers of his uniform. Hux seems to be having the same problem, fumbling with his belt buckle until Kylo loses patience and rips the thing off himself. 

They collide again, Hux attacking Kylo's neck, leaving marks Kylo knows he'll feel for days. He throws his head back against the wall, unsteady hands just barely clutching hux's hair, and then - _oh_ , Hux reaches down and palms him through his pants. _Ah, ah fuck,_ he breathes, nails scraping down Hux's back. 

Hux pries his pants open and starts stroking him in earnest and, and it's so, so good. His hips roll forward of their own volition, fucking into Hux's hand, and across the room a wave of force energy shatters an empty bottle. 

"Wait, wait, let me-" Kylo seems to have lost the capacity for full sentences.

He turns them both around so Hux is the one against the wall, reaches over to grab Hux's wrists and pin them above his head. Hux makes a sound unlike anything Kylo has ever heard - something broken between his name and a scream. 

"Stay there." It's a command, and Hux moans again when Kylo fixes his wrists in place with the force. 

Kylo kisses him once more, slow, catches Hux's bottom lip between his teeth before dropping to his knees. 

It's clumsy, not Kylo's best work by a long shot, but between Hux whimpering above him and the way he tries - and fails - to keep his hips still more than makes up for it. _It's okay,_ Kylo says straight into Hux's scattered mind, _I can take it._

That's all Hux needs to let go, and Kylo sucks him through it. The sight of Hux, a panting, moaning mess is enough to push Kylo over the edge and he comes despite barely having been touched. 

Hux slides down the wall until they're both sitting there on the floor, fucked out, fucked up. A clock across the room informs Kylo that it's 0200, and it's the last thing he sees before he blacks out. 

***

Kylo wakes slowly. In the thin light he pries his eyes open, regards a trashed, vaguely familiar room and -wait, what is that? Horrified, he lifts his head one centimeter, then another - and there it is: red hair, an expanse of pale skin face up on the carpet, snoring softly.

 _Oh, no, oh no no no no_ what has he _done?_

 _Idiot,_ he curses himself under his breath. Not even bothering to dwell on the consequences of whatever he did with or to Hux last night, he scrambles to glance at the clock. His stomach drops - it's 0525. Their meeting with Snoke is in 35 minutes. 

As gently as he can, Kylo extricates himself from the tangle of Hux's limbs. The other man contributes to snore through it all, and Kylo can't help but feel a twinge somewhere behind his ribcage at how peaceful Hux looks. In sleep, his features are calm and unguarded, as if he's never had a nightmare in his life. Kylo scoffs, but before he can stop himself he reaches out to push a bit of Hux's hair out of his eyes.

Without pausing to berate himself about what he just did, Kylo rises silently and stalks out of the room. As much as it's probably his fault they're in this situation, the general is on his own. 

***

Kylo suppresses a shiver as he stands before Snoke, cavernous ceiling arching up over him, air the kind of cold that sucks the warmth right out of his body. 

Hux stands beside him. The general had somehow managed to be not only on time but early, uniform spotless, appearance impeccable. Kylo, who is somewhat worse for wear, to say the least, wonders if he dreamed the previous night all up. It wouldn’t be the craziest thing his mind has created. If Hux remembers anything at all, he gives no indication. 

“I take it you’ve found a suitable planet, general?” Snoke’s voice lacks any tone or pitch, stale air dragged over ancient vocal chords. 

“Yes, supreme leader.” Hux bows his head slightly. 

“Excellent. This weapon will be a powerful advantage for the first order. I see no reason you shouldn’t get started immediately.”

“Thank you.” Hux’s voice is controlled, even, but Kylo can feel the excitement he gives off like waves of electricity. 

Underneath the helmet, Kylo’s mouth quirks up into a small smile. The room is slightly warmer, now. 

“General, you are free to go. Lord Ren, we have much to discuss.” 

***

Kylo is barely outside the door before he - while keeping his expression very neutral and only vibrating slightly - activates his lightsaber and calmly slashes a sizable section of the wall into tiny slivers of reinforced steel. It doesn’t really help. 

He practically runs down the hallway, whispers getting louder and chasing him with every step. _Get out get out just please get out of my head._ He can’t tell if he’s saying the words out loud or not, can’t tell if the whispers are coming from the speakers overhead or the inside of his skull, can’t tell the sound of his heartbeat from his footsteps from the footsteps of all the ghosts who are chasing him down this hallway. The sound is a cacophony, he can’t breathe, he can’t think - 

Kylo bolts into his quarters, throws open a cabinet, scatters its contents until he finds a small orange bottle, shakes pills into his hand (doesn’t count them), swallows them dry. 

In a matter of seconds he is on the ground, eyes open and glazed. He stares at the fuzzy outlines of his room. it is 1400, the middle of the afternoon. _It’s 1700 somewhere,_ he muses to himself. His mind is quiet.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hux is rollin

Hux’s POV

 

Hux is showering. 

Or, more specifically, Hux is sitting on the floor of his shower, letting the scalding water run over his body, staring straight ahead, as he has been for the past hour or so. 

In his head, he scrolls through the list of things he needs to think about, in order from most to least desirable. 

1\. Budgeting the new starkiller base.  
2\. Requisitioning staff for the new starkiller base.  
3\. Getting up out of the shower and doing his job.  
4\. Whatever had happened last night with…well. That.

Not that that’s the whole list, or even a portion of it (Hux finds himself having to think about a great many things), but those are the standout items. 

If he’s being honest, he’s already begun to think about one of the things. Item number four, to be specific. Last night. In fact, he’s been thinking about it for a full hour now. 

Hux remembers waking up in a mostly empty room in some far-off section of the ship, alone and shivering (the Finalizer is always so cold), clothes strewn across the floor. He remembers attempting to sit up and noticing a terrible ache in every corner of his body, cradling his pounding head in a fog of confusion, eyes squeezed shut. He remembers peeking at the clock across the room so as to let in as little light as possible, and seeing that it was nearly 0600, weaving his way to his quarters. He remembers the feeling of dread that coiled in the bottom of his stomach as he dressed in fresh clothes and ran a comb through his hair, how the sound of his footsteps echoed in his ears as he walked through the halls on the way to their audience with Snoke. 

Most of all, Hux remembers remembering. The moment, standing next to Kylo Ren in front of the Supreme Leader, when everything came rushing back like a bad holo. 

_Pale fingers just ghosting over the surface of his skin, slow and reverent. Goosebumps, a sharp intake of breath. Hot mouth on his, tasting of alcohol and something else, something sweet. Hands tangling in hair, bruises on his thighs._

Oh, the effort it had taken to keep a straight face. Even now, Hux is sure Snoke caught at least snatches of the memory, and it’s some kind of miracle his face didn’t turn even a shade of pink. 

Slowly, he drags himself to his feet and turns off the water, stepping out of the shower. Standing, dripping, he studies his reflection in the mirror. 

His hair hangs in dripping orange tendrils across his forehead, a mess. Hux’s face isn’t much more than a pair of hollow eyes, at the moment, and as the thought crosses his mind he sees his reflection smile and choke out a mirthless laugh. _Ren was right about one thing - you really are out of practice. You look like hell._

It’s early - at this hour on most days he would be just beginning to hit his stride with work, settling into a productive rhythm as the ship quieted down for the night. Tonight, though, he trudges across the room and crawls, rather pathetically, into bed. 

“Lights, 0%,” he grunts, covering himself entirely with blankets. In the back of his mind, some stressed-out smaller Hux is screaming about all the things he has to get done, how going to sleep right now is far from a good idea. He buries his head under a pillow and pushes those thoughts to the back of his mind, along with quite a few other ones. 

_What’s one more bad decision, in the grand scheme of things, given the past twenty four hours?_

***

General Hux is not one to experience setbacks - this is something he tells himself when he wakes up the next morning, feeling significantly more like a person than he had the night before. He is not someone who is affected by small, ridiculous deviations from the norm. He is not someone who lets the indiscretions of days past interfere with his work, or his progress, or his productivity. 

Which is why he finds himself laying face up on Phasma’s bed at the first chance he gets, one hand flung dramatically over his face as he recounts the events of two nights ago in vivid detail. 

“And then I said _fine._ Like, I just went along with it? Who does that? Who _am_ I?”

Phasma looks so genuinely sympathetic it almost brings Hux to tears. 

“So fast forward like a couple hours or something, I don’t even really _remember_ , and I was completely trashed, of course, and I was leaving,” he pauses when Phasms rolls her eyes so far back she might have seen the inside of her head. “I was! I swear I was leaving. I had every intention. Anyway, there I was, weaving across this room like an idiot, and I tripped on literally the air and I fell and who catches me but _fucking Kylo Ren of all people._ Honestly it’s like some kind of cosmic joke.” 

“Was it at least…good?” Phasma looks equal parts amused and intrigued. 

_“Captain!”_

But Hux is laughing, rolling over so his face is buried and groaning into the mattress. “If word of this gets out, my career is over,” he says, the gravity of the words meaning nothing. It forces some insane laughter out of him, the ludicrousness of the situation. “Over. I’m done for. Snoke will have me executed, ooh, I know, maybe he’ll even have Ren do it. That seems like his style.” 

He should be angry, or worried, or something, really, he should, but Phasma with her wide blue eyes and constant smile always seems to bring out the hilarity of any situation. Hux thinks he would go absolutely mad without her on the ship. If he’s being honest, she’s the only thing that keeps him from committing multiple homicides in most aspects of day-to-day life.

“Ok, but you didn’t answer my question,” she prompts with a smile that’s positively _wicked._

“Ugh, you’re unbelievable. Yes, ok, yes, it was,” Hux cries, his words muffled by the mattress. He’s overtaken by another bout of completely misplaced laughter as Phasma absolutely loses it from her desk chair across the room. 

“If you’re going to…cry,” she says between laughs, “try not to get snot on my bed, thanks.” 

Hux just snorts. 

*** 

Surprisingly, the week ends up being particularly productive for Hux. Everything seems to be going uncharacteristically smoothly - the plans for the base solidifying more and more with every passing day. Time passes in a blur of signing papers and looking at numbers (so many numbers) and reading absurdly long documents and approving said documents and drinking way too much caf and sleeping, well - not at all. 

By the last day, Hux is well and truly spent. A satisfied smile even sneaks its way onto his face as he carries his exhausted husk of a body back to his quarters after the final meeting of the day, putting every last bit of energy he has into holding his back straight. Hux’s life is under control, the superweapon he’s dreamed about for, ever, is going to become a reality, and if the next few weeks continue like this one they’ll be coding his name into the history holos before Hux even gets to fire the thing. Everything is as it should be.

That is, until he turns a corner to find Kylo Ren, standing there, masked and in full armor, swaying slightly. 

“Ren,” Hux says, smile freezing on his face. Because nothing good can stay good, apparently. 

Kylo, voice dark and menacing through the vocoder, says: “Hey kid, wanna buy some drugs?” 

An oh no, Hux is not going to deal with this today. “What are you talking about, Ren,” he says tersely. “It’s late, and if it’s no trouble to you, I’d like to make it back to my quarters before morning, thanks.” He attempts to maneuver around Kylo, who hasn’t moved from the center of the hallway. 

“I’m talking about drugs,” Kylo blurts. “Not the buying them part. I saw that line in a holo. But drugs though,” he says, words going way too fast now, “these ones, specifically. Do you want them. Like, for free.” 

“What - of course I don’t. You shouldn’t, either. Gods, Ren, do you have no respect for rules at all?” This is all evidence to the fact that Ren is really just an oversized teenager who hasn’t yet developed the prefrontal cortex to make any type of rational decision. Clearly. But - 

“They’re _so_ fun though,” Kylo whines, “and I came all the way over here and it would really be a wasteifyoudidn’ttakethem.” The last few words come out in a huff of air that kind of falls over Hux’s face in a cloud. 

It occurs to him that it smells like fruit, for some reason. And Hux shouldn’t, he really shouldn’t but - 

Kylo reaches out and lightly runs his hand over just the longest strands of Hux’s hair, and apparently deranged laughter was not what whoever built this vocoder had in mind, because Kylo sounds ridiculous. 

And Hux shouldn’t but it’s been a long day of an even longer week, and he’s tired, and he owes himself this, just this one thing, besides he practically never does anything outside of the rules, and he deserves it, he really does, and, _“Fine.”_

“Great.”

*** 

The second the tab dissolves on his tongue and the edges of his mind begin to go fuzzy, it occurs to Hux that this was actually a very bad idea.

***

Kylo slams Hux against the wall of the supply closet, kicking the door shut behind him. The helmet falls to the floor with a satisfying clunk and they’re kissing and both of their mouths taste like fruit to the point that Hux isn’t really sure whose tongue is whose and it’s kind of delightful, really, not knowing where his body ends and Kylo’s begins. 

Hux opens his eyes and throws his head back against the wall, tendrils of hair hanging in his eyes and for a moment they blur and reform bright blue, _how interesting,_ and Kylos mouth is on his throat and little sparks of pain are traveling across the skin like so many pinpricks of starlight, and now they tickle, and now they hurt and Hux makes a sound somewere between a laugh and a moan. Kylo licks a long stripe up his neck and that definitely tickles, and his hands find Kylo’s hips and grab on of their own volition because the floor is tilting, suddenly. 

And then Kylo’s mouth is back on his, hot and tingly and somewhat clumsy and there’s a knee between his legs and it knocks him off balance and he’s holding on for dear life as Kylo Ren starts to move and something, maybe color, sparks through his body and he laughs again, or maybe it’s a whimper. Kylo moves again and he’s kissing Hux now so fiercely it’s like he’s sucking the air right out of his lungs. The air is sweet and everything is so unsteady and Hux, feeling himself clutching Kylo’s hips, remembers the bruises on his own and the color intensifies until it’s all Hux can see, his eyes rolling back into his head as Kylos hands move all over his body leaving great swaths of stars in their wake and if this is suffocation he never wants to breathe again, kylo keeps kissing him and kissing him and all he can manage to say is _don’t stop don’t stop don’t stop._

And suddenly everything is gone - the pressure, the heat, the color, the stars. Hux slides down the wall, the room spinning. He is all alone. Kylo Ren is gone, if he was even there in the first place - he finds it so hard to remember, now. Some tiny synapse of his brain somehow still firing registers distaste - maybe a ghost of anger because how dare Kylo Ren leave him here in this supply closet, but Hux is soon overtaken by another stream of light that bores straight through his eyes into his brain, and it’s the last thing he sees.

He somewhat remembers shuffling through corridors for what feels like an eternity, pressing his face to a door until it opens - maybe his, maybe not. 

Vaguely he registers a figure coming near him, the ceiling bending around it, and for a second he’s delighted - 

“Is that? Where did you go? Why did- ” Oh. 

The face solidifies and it’s Phasma, pulling him to his feet and then just lifting him over her shoulder, and something tells him he should be indignant about this or something but the rhythm of her footsteps feels like music so he closes his eyes. 

***

0600: Around this time last week Hux told himself that was the only time he would be waking up with a pounding headache and significant regrets. Hux lied, apparently.   
“Captain…Phasma,” he croaks, “re-report.”

“I’m not sure you want one, General.” 

“That bad?” He cracks one eye open, finds the light to be unbearable, closes it again. 

“Come on,” she says, and he’s being pulled to his feet again. 

***

“So do you want to go ask Ren where I can get some of this?” Phasma rips the tape off with her teeth, smoothing the last bit around her palm. Her gray tank top is already stained with sweat, and she places the roll of tape on the ground, squatting down and grabbing the barbell. 

“Phasma, I’m being serious,” Hux whines. His life is really over now, if it wasn’t already. 

“Me too, it sounds awesome.” She lifts the weight over her head, making it look easy, and sets it back down gently. “Your turn.”

“Yeah, as if,” he continues. “Anyway, I’m not going to procure you hallucinogens, and even if I was going to, I can’t now because I am absolutely _never talking to Kylo Ren again._ ” 

“Sure, sure.” She lifts the weight again, sweat gathering on her forehead. 

“I’m demoting you,” Hux says imperiously, but his heart isn’t in it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one was a lot shorter but it's all good bc if they're short i can get them out faster!!! if u have any opinions/hates/find any typos feel free 2 comment them 
> 
> also sorry for any drug inaccuracies i have no idea what acid is like but it's fake and it's in space (that's the motto for this fic)

**Author's Note:**

> yayyy thank you sm for reading, the next chapter should be up within a week and if not go yell at tumblr user eeriealien and she'll yell at me to finish it


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